


The Way To A Man's Heart

by Vyrnwy



Category: Cassandra Palmer Series - Karen Chance
Genre: F/M, Headcanon, Post Ride the Storm, Spoilers for RtS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyrnwy/pseuds/Vyrnwy
Summary: This started out as a tiny little headcanon idea but somehow evolved into a fully grown one-shot. The story starts pretty much where RtS left off.Cassie takes care of Pritkin.





	The Way To A Man's Heart

I shifted back into Dante's with enough food to get Jon Snow and the rest of the Night's Watch through a long hard winter and still leave them with something to snack on during spring.

"A little help here," I groaned from behind the quivering Jenga tower of styrofoam containers that was momentarily blocking my view of the sparsely furnished hotel room and its occupants.

"What is all this?" Caleb asked from somewhere in front of me.

"The newest addition to the carpet if you don't get it off me anytime soon."

A sigh, followed by the sound of a heavy chair scraping over nylon and then I could finally see. And immediately regretted it when my eyes met with terribly amused green ones.  
Pritkin was still in bed but sitting up against the headboard, which was an improvement. He had been asleep when I had dropped in yesterday after my impromptu visit to the consul's estate where a certain blackmailing son of a bitch was currently residing. I had stayed but must have fallen asleep in the armchair at some point because the next time I had opened my eyes, I had been back in my bedroom upstairs.  
The scent of cheap hotel toiletries which permeated the humid air in the small room and the change of clothing indicated that Pritkin had showered. I decided to take this as a sign that he was feeling better. However, he hadn't bothered to shave, so his face still sported several weeks' worth of five o'clock shadow.

"You're up," I said, mentally congratulating myself on my brilliant knack of stating the obvious.

Pritkin kept looking at me but didn't say anything. I stretched my aching arms and gave him what I really hoped wasn't the goofiest smile on earth while following Caleb to the table at the far end of the room where he had unceremonially dumped my load.

Caleb had called earlier from his buddy's room to ask if I could rustle up something for lunch. Since Dante's and what was left of its food court had been shut down after the last major attack, I had been forced to check out the joints in the neighborhood. About ten minutes into my search, I had found a food cart that the health department would approve of and had relieved the owner of three Phillies. But halfway back to the hotel I had suddenly remembered how Billy's stomach had reacted to being exposed to a bottle of beer after so many years. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to place Pritkin on a bland diet for the first few days.  
It had taken me awhile to find something in Las Vegas that was low in fibre and not spicy, raw or fried and I had made it all the way back to the foyer this time when that stupid blabbermouth in my head had unnecessarily remarked that Pritkin had always been a fast healer and that he probably just wanted to eat what he usually did.  
The server from the vegetarian take-out restaurant I had invaded a few moments later had been kind enough to give me a narrow cardboard box to carry my haul in - it hadn't occurred to me to leave the stuff I had already bought at the hotel before going back - and I had still been in the process of battling my way out through the revolving door when my eyes had caught sight of the pizza place across the street.

The increasingly annoying, but surprisingly convincing voice and I had ended up playing this game until I had run out of cash.

Caleb had already started to open the containers by the time I joined him and was helping himself to a couple of egg rolls, a taco and a few slices of pizza. The amount of food looked even more outrageous on the small table. I ran a hand through my curls. "I wasn't sure what to get you so I--"

"Ransacked the entire city?" Caleb finished, mouth full but nonetheless curved into a knowing grin. I glared at him but quickly feigned a sudden overwhelming interest in the quality of the styrofoam since my cheeks had decided to dignify his comment with a visible change in color.  
Thankfully, Caleb didn't seem to expect a verbal response and just kept piling food on the detached lid of a pizza box which he was using as a makeshift plate.

And then, to my horror, he made his way to the door.

"You're leaving?" I asked, willing my voice to sound normal.

One hand already on the doorknob he turned around. "Jonas called this morning, he wants me back at HQ. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Oh, but you can-- I'm sure he-- Why don't you--"

But Caleb was gone before I was able to finish stutter-fest 2017. Which left me with the war mage in bed who had yet to utter so much as a peep, but who still openly stared at me, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and a hint of that goddamn evil smile of his on the lips.

Well shit.

I don't know what about being alone with Pritkin suddenly made me feel like an insecure 13-year-old on her very first date. Okay, the small matter of me declaring my love to him in the face of what should have been the end of the world and us bringing down the tent might have something to do with it. But to be fair, I wasn't even supposed to be in this situation right now. We should have died that day in medieval Wales! And wasn't this just my stupid fucking luck.  
The plan had been foolproof: Tell Pritkin I love him, have fantastic, otherworldly, earth-shattering sex, let Ares win and die happily ever after. For a moment I genuinely felt cheated of my easy way out. If I had known that we would survive -- and seriously, what were the odds -- I never would have told him.

Not yet. Not like that. Not until I've had some time to sort through the jumbled, ugly, confusing mess that was my life.

I don't usually talk about my feelings. I just don't. Mostly because I wouldn't even know where to start. How do you explain what is going on in your head when you don't even understand it yourself? I knew, though, that we had to talk about what had happened eventually, but since I was in no hurry to discuss this particular subject, I opted for small talk.

"How are your vocal cords doing today?"

"Fine," he croaked and rolled his eyes when I shot him an unconvinced look. And all at once I felt myself relax a little. This was familiar ground. AnnoyedWithMe!Pritkin was something I could deal with.

"Are you hungry? We have--" I surveyed the mess on the table and sighed. "Everything. Apparently." Pritkin gave a hoarse chuckle and pointed at one of the Phillies.

Aaaand the evil grin was back. Bastard.

I handed him the foil-wrapped heart attack and a couple of napkins, carefully avoiding touching him in the process. 'Get a fucking grip, Cassie,' I told myself while taking a food container at random. Kicking off my shoes, I made myself at home at the foot of the bed and dove right in, face-first. Pritkin examined me, his expression a strange mix of wonder and disapproval.

"You haven't eaten since you got back, have you." It wasn't so much a question as a statement. He knew me well. I licked my fork and pretended to think hard about it.

"I had a cookie for breakfast," I chirped at last. Pritkin shook his head in disbelieve but didn't harp on my apparent inability to take care of myself.

"What did I miss?" he asked instead. I snorted.

"You mean except for everything?" I hadn't meant for it to sound like an accusation but judging by his expression, Pritkin took it as one. I told him so but couldn't say if he believed me.

"I have a court," I stated in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little.

"I know," came the brusque response.

'Of course, he does,' I thought. Everyone had known but me. But I wasn't ready to give up yet.

"We saved them from their mansion in London before Agnes' acolytes were able to deep-fry them. Well, the coven witches did most of the work, I wouldn't have made it if the demon council hadn't pulled me out, to be h--" I stopped gabbing because Pritkin had gone back to staring at me again, but this time there was no amusement on his face.

"What do you mean, the demon council pulled you out?" he asked through clenched teeth, his tone dangerously low and sandpaper rough. I calmly chewed on a french fry and told him what had happened right after I had come back from the demon court.

"The council decided I was a valuable asset in this war after all and therefore worth saving," I concluded my story.

"And they gave you the counterspell to save me as well," Pritkin asked doubtfully. "Just like that?"

"I guess, Adra assumed that I wouldn't be willing to cooperate otherwise." I shrugged innocently and exchanged the now empty food container for a full one. "And he was right."

"And the coven witches? How did you get them to work with you?"

I grinned and gave him a meaningful look. "Not insulting them kind of helped."

I could tell that he wanted to ask more questions, but he just nodded and turned his attention back to the sandwich on his lap.

The two of us sat in somewhat comfortable silence for several minutes and ate our respective meals while listening to the muffled sounds of the busy town downstairs that filtered through the closed window. Eventually, it was Pritkin who broke it.

"We need to talk," he said without looking up.

A massive piece of Kung Pao chicken had been en route to my eagerly awaiting lips when the arm guiding the fork froze in midair at his words. After what felt like a lifetime, I realized that I probably looked like an idiot and inched the fork back down.

"We're already talking," I muttered and poked around in the pile of Chinese food. Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry anymore.

Pritkin closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as if my mere existence was giving him a headache. Knowing him, that was probably the case.

"Cassie," he finally said in his trademark no-nonsense tone of voice. Yeah, he was definitely feeling better.

"Okay. Fine. " I took a nice deep breath. "Let's talk."


End file.
